Chariot
by Ghostey
Summary: Dean goes through a phase, and ends up alone on a back road bleeding. Dean 22 & Sammy 18. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Chariot**

_Dean goes through a phase, and ends up alone on a back road bleeding._

**Part 1**

Twenty-two year old Dean Winchester was lying on his back on the grass behind Jim Murphy's church, and he was bored. His younger brother Sam had left for college only four months ago, had Sam stayed with Dean, no doubt they would probably be on the hunt with their father right now.

But Sammy wasn't, and John was in a bad mood since Sam left he told Dean to stay with Pastor Jim until the eldest Winchester got back. Dean was twenty-two for God's sake… he shouldn't need to be babysat. Whatever, Dean knew how John felt, and to be honest he felt a bit hurt himself that Sam had left, so Dean would do as John told him, heaven knew John didn't need anymore heartache.

A crisp breeze passed over his prone body and the long grass tickled the side of his face. It was the end of November, and Dean and Jim had a small Thanksgiving the week before. Even though the Winchesters weren't known for home-cooked holidays, John usually made it a point to go to a halfway decent restaurant on holidays. The food was great, Jim was an excellent cook, but Dean felt the twinge of loneliness when neither his father or baby brother were there to enjoy the meal.

Maybe that was why John left on a hunt… Dean figured that ignoring the issue of family during the holidays was easier for John than actually confronting the fact that Sam wasn't with them anymore. Dean wished he were, he even left voice messages for Sam every day that went unanswered. He would try using the church phone next time; the caller i.d. on Sam's phone showing 'Dean' was Dean's enemy, maybe Sammy would reply if Jim called him.

It wasn't right, yeah John and shut the door on Sammy, but Dean hadn't, hell, there wasn't even a door to shut for Dean… Dean would always be there for his little brother, even if Sam didn't want it.

Kids didn't appreciate that anymore.

So there he was, bored, alone, and cold - lying on his back in the grass. The clouds over head were hung low and heavy with the promise of snow.

"Dean?" Jim Murphy called from the front of the church.

The young man jumped up into a sitting position as Jim rounded the side of the church and brushed the bits of grass that had gathered in his hair out. "Over here Pastor," Dean said casually.

"You're going to get pneumonia out here champ," Jim smiled, sitting next to Dean. "The news says that we're going to get snow tonight. So I thought that we'd stay in."

"If we eat another meal involving turkey you do realize I'll have to shoot you, right?" Dean asked in all seriousness.

Jim laughed, "No, we ran out of turkey for lunch today."

"Turkey casserole, turkey tacos, turkey soup, turkey omelets, turkey lasagna, turkey quesadillas, turkey sandwiches… not to mention the one-hundred and one uses for dinner rolls. Who would have thought they make excellent shooting range targets? I personally liked it when they would explode."

"And you can't tell your father I don't feed you well. Stay with me much longer and I just might break you of your obsession with greasy burgers," the older man grinned.

Dean looked up as bits of stray snow floated down in front of him, falling on his nose and getting caught in his eyelashes. The green of the grass lost color as flecks diluted the ground with their whiteness. Jim got up beside him and Dean followed suit, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Say Dean, you want to help me decorate the Church? After dinner?" Jim asked, it was drawing near to Christmas, and Jim was a simple man and liked nothing more than to have the Church looking picture perfect.

"I'll pay for delivery pizza," Dean suggested, wanting anything _but_ homemade food.

"Nonsense Dean, I wouldn't have my worst enemy drive through the weather we're looking at having tonight. No, I have some beef that we can grill."

The two were by now walking toward the church door and a flurry erupted above them. Dean scowled, "You plan on grilling?"

"Or roasting," Jim compromised, "But that would take too long, so I guess we'd just sear it then leave it in the broiler while we set up the trees."

"Just how much stuff does a church need for Christmas?"

"Dean, after Easter, Christmas is our most important holiday. It's a sad, but true, fact that most of the casual congregation comes only for these two triumphant moments in our Savior's life, therefore we have to make it as enchanting as possible for them, and hope they want to join us throughout the rest of the year. Easter decorations are no problem, the purple draperies and so forth, but Christmas?"

Jim grinned and Dean's face paled.

"Christmas we have trees and ornaments and lights, the nativity scene…"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Dad would always just have us watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special and call it a holiday."

"Your father has never been big on traditions or conventional… well… conventional anything."

"You can say that again."

"And I probably will. Come on, decorations are in the annex upstairs."

Jim showed Dean the boxes that held all that was needed for the holiday celebration, and told him just to unpack it and air it out while Jim took care of dinner. Dean looked with muted distain at the fragile gold and ornaments and ribbons. He never cared for the evangelizing that Jim had tried on the Winchester boys when they were younger, Sam had always listened eagerly, but Dean preferred to go ahead and _not_ pay attention to the sermons.

Eventually Jim learned not to involve Dean in these moments, and as they both grew older John took them to Jim's less and less so Dean and Sam had never had the chance to see the Church at Christmas time.

But Dean found no trees, fake real or otherwise, he wasn't fond of the idea of lugging trees around the old Church, but he was promised trees damnit, he wanted trees.

"JIM!" the young man whined.

The pastor appeared in the passage way near Dean's feet, wiping his hands on a dishcloth, "Yeah son? You need any help up there?"

"Where are the trees?"

"Well, we get to chop them down at the tree farm a few miles away tomorrow."

"You're kidding right?"

"Why would I kid? Dean, this is a place of God, he doesn't appreciate the lying and deceit in his own house. Besides, fresh trees are nicer than fake ones."

"Fake trees are less clean up," Dean replied.

"I do have a couple fake trees that I put up in the lobby; they're in the basement if you want to bring them up. Don't touch anything without pine needles," Jim told him with a cautionary nod.

Dean jumped down from the attic stairs and followed Jim into the kitchen where the food was well on its way to resting in the two men's stomachs. "You cook often Pastor?" Dean asked casually.

"Unlike others of our profession I eat well and bountifully, and I throw a benefit dinner every now and then for the Church."

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go get those trees then while you finish up here I suppose," Dean shrugged. Dean was naturally obedient toward the hunters in his life, his father, Caleb, Jim, Bobby, to name the few he knew personally, and he was grateful for the "home-away-from-home" Jim offered. So while he didn't want to put up Christmas stuff, he would.

The boy ventured into the basement and flipped on the light, at first he couldn't find the piney treasure until he found a pine door that led to the garage beneath the Church.

"Hmm, there must be boxes labeled 'Fake Trees Here' somewhere," Dean muttered, scanning the room. What did catch his interest was an oddly shaped fabric that he had never really paid any heed to when he was younger. In one sweep Dean dislodged all the dust into the air by pulling off the canvas sheet revealing a well-kept motorcycle with ruby paint on it.

"Jim you dog…" Dean grinned, touching the cycle lightly.

"Dean! Get those trees up and dinner's ready!"

Dean turned and yelled in the general direction of Jim, "Alright! Be there in a second!" More quietly, the young man realized his boredom was slipping away like a handful of sand… he had never ridden a motorcycle before.

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural is not owned by me, it's owned by the CW and Kripke… those lucky devils…

**Author's Note: **Okay, this will be a shortish four chapter piece, and many of you won't like it, because to be honest it has little brothery moments, instead it touches on the tension felt after Sam left. Okay, enough rambling, enjoy!

**Review please! (I love reviews, make me happy)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chariot**

_Dean goes through a phase, and ends up alone on a back road bleeding._

**Part 2**

Dean was sharpening Jim's knives while the older Pastor was typing away on his computer. The two had eaten earlier, and set up all the decorations that Jim had tucked away for the rest of the year. Dean liked it by the end, everything was shiny and glittery, and when Dean finally plugged in the last string of lights he glowed with admiration of the work they did.

It was in that moment that Christmas became his favorite holiday, not for any religious reasons, but he put work into something that paid off wonderfully… building up little bits and pieces of beauty until he had finally constructed something magnificent to admire…

It was just like Sam… Sam was bits and pieces of Dean, and John, and what the two could muster up about Mary… pieces that were dysfunctional on their own, that didn't really fit in with anything else except each other – but when combined and given a little spark of energy, a little push in one direction – well… then the final product was worth more than the sum of its parts.

A glowing example of Dean's childhood, the effort of one misguided young man, amplified and strikingly stunning by his baby brother.

He shook his head, shifting these thoughts from his head to the task at hand, he didn't need to get all wishy-washy over his brother at the moment.

Dean hadn't mentioned his find to Jim yet, but planned on it the next day, after all, Dean was open to learning new things, and a motorcycle would amuse him at least for a little.

No, amuse was the wrong word… distract was more like it. Distract Dean from Sam's absence and his father's indifference to the whole mess.

Jim was flipping through his old bible thoughtfully until he found a passage and worked on his sermon for the next Sunday. The cell phone on his desk chimed merrily and Jim picked up the receiver nonchalantly, "Jim Murphy."

The young man leaned closer to the Pastor to eavesdrop on the conversation, and in turn Jim got up and walked into his office. Dean sighed, he had a sneaking suspicion that it was his father anyway, but Jim was obviously upset over something John had to say.

"Goddamn it…" Dean sighed, suddenly the wind outside howled even more loudly and Dean rolled his eyes, "Okay I'm sorry… Jesus… what a stick in the mud…"

This time the response was a crack of lightning and low rumbling thunder, where Dean looked suspiciously around the room to make sure no ethereal angels were going to smite him where he sat. He put the knife he was working on gently on the side table and leaned back, propping his feet on the coffee table.

No sooner than he did just that, the older Pastor opened and closed the door to his office with a sigh. Jim went back to his desk and sat in it heavily.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, noting how Jim looked extremely tired all of a sudden… his father had that effect on those close to him.

Without looking up from his sermon texts, Jim replied sourly, "Get your feet off my furniture young man."

Dean scowled indignantly and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

"That was your father."

"_That_ was obvious."

"He found another job while he was down there, he'll be moving on to Mississippi when he's done with the poltergeist he's currently on. He mentioned something about undead and how…"

"How what?"

"He may be down there for Christmas," Jim paused, as if chewing over how he should tell Dean. Jim looked up at the boy, who was like a son to Jim – as much as Jim hated how Dean was an arrogant ass at times, he imagined if Jim had ever had a son then he would want his oldest child to be just like Dean.

Dean looked expectantly at him, "Yeah? Does he want help or something?"

"Nothing like that… he just asked if you could stay here for a while, until he finished this job."

The younger man didn't respond - the full meaning of what Jim said was rolling around in his mind. Dean could take it without complaint, knowing that what his father said was always right and that Dean himself had no reason or right to question it… but in truth it made him feel hot inside, and anger bubbled up to his head and he could the flush of red burning his cheeks.

He threw down the rag he had been using and stood up with his arms folding across his chest. Dean paced the length of the couch and Jim knew that all he could do at the moment would be to watch and wait.

"So that it then…" Dean whispered bitterly. He turned and faced the older pastor and raised his voice angrily, "No offense Jim, but _that's_ how he's going to deal with this?! He can't deal with the fact that Sammy left and he's the goddamn reason that Sam hates us!!"

"Dean please, sit down," Jim said sorrowfully, knowing full well that it was useless.

"NO! Sam deserved much better than us! I _know_ that, but by God, I'm a selfish bastard I didn't want to alienate him over this, then Dad goes ahead and basically tells Sam to piss off!" Dean threw a pillow at the door, and it bounced to the ground with a faint thud.

"I'm okay with that, I really am…"

"No, you're not Dea"

"Whatever, but it'll blow over right?" Dean's voice cracked, "Sam'll get over that, and we'll talk again… but… damnit… Dad's completely burying himself in work and he has the _nerve_ to tell me to just sit it out! He's not thinking about what I'm going through is he!?"

Dean panted, blushing in the middle of the room, dangerously close to the edge. Jim stood up, and walked cautiously over to the young man. Jim laid a firm hand on his shoulder, saying softly, "Your father knows he has two sons, perhaps he thought that you taking a break would be the best for you. He doesn't do this to purposefully anger you Dean; he's just weary of what has been going on with your family."

He stopped fidgeting, stopped pacing, instead he looked blankly at Jim, "I'm going to go visit Sammy, Dad doesn't have to know I just… I just want to go see my brother."

"But Dean, I'm not sure if that wou"

Dean bit his lip, "Can I borrow your motorcycle, I want to try it out."

The older man was concerned, but knew that Dean had wound himself so tightly that it was impossible to sway his mind. Jim quietly studied Dean for a moment, then with trepidation said, "Alright, if you stay around here for a little bit to learn how ride first."

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural is not owned by me, it's owned by the CW and Kripke… those lucky devils…

**Author's Note: **I lied, it's turned into five parts :P ((Haha, it'll probably be six by the time I'm finished tweaking it))

**Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chariot**

_Dean goes through a phase, and ends up alone on a back road bleeding._

**Part 3**

Dean was diligently packed his duffle with an extra set of cloths in addition to his shotgun and knife. Jim was watching him eagerly from the side, anxious for the boy to at least think over about the trip he was about to go on.

The older pastor was extremely worried, for even though Dean picked up riding his cycle quickly, Jim was concerned over Dean's rush to go see his brother.

"All I'm saying is, Dean, is that I think you would be better off just taking your car. I know you love that car more than anything, so you should probably take that, considering the weather, and you're still a novice at this I don't think you should risk used my motorcycle."

Dean chuckled, and stuffed the duffle underneath the seat. "I appreciate your concern Pastor, but I want to do this."

"Maybe when spring comes around, then it'll be better conditions," Jim pleaded fruitlessly.

"No time like the present Jim," Dean said, hitting the shoulder of the pastor. It was a rule to live by for hunters; they had to live in the present, because there was no telling when the job would catch up with them.

Seeing that there was no dissuading the young hunter from his idea, Jim dejectedly went over to a large utility trunk near the side of the garage. He pulled out a helmet that matched the color of the chopper and held it out for Dean. "At least where a helmet Dean, that's all I'm asking."

"And mess up my hair?" Dean joked.

Jim responded with a cold stare, "If you don't wear the helmet I'm not letting you go, and I'll call your father about it."

Dean's eye twitched, John wouldn't approve of Dean going and visiting his brother. Well… that wasn't completely true, the two of them already had "checked up" on Sammy in Palo Alto, but any of those times no real contact with the youngest Winchester was made. Dean wanted to change that…

So the two stood there, with Jim holding the helmet to Dean defiantly. Reluctantly, Dean grabbed it and played with it in his hands.

"Hey Pastor? I forgot to ask, why in the world do you have this thing?"

Jim thought about it for a moment, and then replied, "Because each man has to have something to live for… I have my church and my congregation to look out for."

Dean not so patiently lifted an eyebrow for the point.

"But no one ever says you can't have a fling on the side every now and again," Jim concluded with a twinkle gleam in his eyes.

Dean shuffled his feet and awkwardly shifted the helmet in his grasp, "I'm going to need you to keep quiet about this if that's okay…" He stopped, "I think that's why I'm not taking my car… because if Dad _does_ decide to show up you could say I'm in town or something, getting money or whatever."

He grinned, "And plus man? Dude, I really want to try riding one of these. I mean? This? This is a beauty," Dean smiled, laying his hand on the machine.

"It is, but I've retired it," Jim nodded, "Alright, I won't tell your father. However, Dean, drive carefully, and… well… how do I put this… _slower_ than you normally drive, don't drive at night, and most importantly call when you get to your brother's place."

"Don't worry Jim, I'll be fine," Dean rolled his eyes, "I've been through worse."

"Wear your helmet."

"Alright, alright, thanks _Dad,_" he added, securing the helmet on his head, "I'm blaming you if any ladies don't like the hat hair through.

"I wouldn't dream of anything less," Jim smiled. Dean kick started the machine, and it growled with life.

"Say hello to your brother for me."

"I will."

Jim watched as Dean rode off with dust kicking up behind the bike. He sighed; he hoped Dean would have a clear head through all of this.

Dean on the other hand, loved it, yeah he loved his car almost to the point of obsession, but this was something else entirely. He was having _fun_, something fun that didn't involve the paranormal or women or drinking.

He knew the way to Palo Alto by heart, and knew very well he could make it in a day and a half in the Impala, but he heeded Jim's caution and decided to take it a little bit slower… he'd be there in two days.

The first day went without incident; Dean even got a motel room before it got dark outside. When there, he debated whether or not to call his brother, after all… Sam could have planned to be with a girl, or bar hopping, or getting wasted… Dean laughed at himself, that wasn't Sam, besides, if Dean found Sam piss drunk he would have to kill the kid himself.

Dean didn't trust the college that whisked his brother away from him.

The next morning, Dean woke up groggy and tired… and much later than he wanted to. He stuck his head in the shower and hastily threw on jeans and a long sleeve button down shirt. Finishing it off he grabbed the leather jacket Jim had lent him for the road.

He looked at the motorcycle sitting outside his motel room, suddenly he had a moment of dread concerning how late he slept in that day… now matter how fast he drove, he would have to ride and night in order to get to Sam's on time.

Well… Jim didn't have to know about that tiny detail.

The middle Winchester straddled the bike and started it up, a smiled cracking on his face. Making sure his helmet was on tight, he roared down the small town street, with any luck scaring the old ladies that tried to hit on him the last night at the diner.

He wouldn't stop for breakfast, or lunch for that matter, to him, he just wanted to go see Sam, and enjoy the time on the road without interruptions. He learned to appreciate the crazy people who would spend so much time fussing on their bikes, molding the machines into works of art made solely for them. Like Dean was with his Impala, he loved it, he loved the care and work that went into craftsmanship of his girl, people were stir crazy over bikes, now he understood it.

It was getting late, the wind was picking up and the sun was rapidly descending into the west. Dean looked warily at the road sign that passed, grateful that it read 'Palo Alto' next exit. It wasn't much longer until he got to his brother's, hell, he just might make it before the sun went completely down.

It was a cold night, the air was brisk around him and he turned onto a road less traveled (a short cut) that Dean knew would get him to the dormitories at Stanford faster.

Then he felt a feeling of trepidation, like a wall it smacked into Dean as he rounded a bend in the road.

"Holy shit…" Dean breathed as oncoming headlights drifted into the right lane. He gripped the handles and moved to the left and glanced the other vehicle. "Aw hell," Dean cursed aloud, his right leg was burning from colliding with the truck.

Dean panicked as he felt the bike shudder beneath him as the asphalt became a thin sheet of black ice. The motor cycle slipped, and he careened out of control.

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural is not owned by me, it's owned by the CW and Kripke… those lucky devils…

**Author's Note: **This chapter posed quite a challenge for me, as it is a transition chapter, "the point of no return" if you will, and it was a tricky thing to have it span over a few days especially considered I suck at road trips, let alone road trips on a bike. Oh, and I couldn't help but be evil and throw in a cliffhanger. :P I hope I've fulfilled my evil quotient as a fanfic writer.

Oh, and I'm sorry this was two days late, next chapter will come on Wednesday.

**Review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chariot**

_Dean goes through a phase, and ends up alone on a back road bleeding._

**Part 4**

"Hey Sam?"

"Pastor Jim?"

"Sam, have you heard from Dean?"

"No, why?"

"He said he was going to drop by your place, he told me he would call when he got there."

"So he hasn't yet, must have it traffic or something… Pastor? Why was Dean coming here?"

"He left almost three days ago; he should have been there last night, knowing his driving."

"Well he's not… so I don't know, try him on his cell. Look Pastor Jim, I really appreciate his intentions but I frankly don't want to be a part of that anymo"

"He's not picking up."

"He always picks up."

"Just Sam? Do me a favor and if you hear anything call me? Your father doesn't know Dean left to see you and I promised Dean I wouldn't tell him… but if I can't get in contact with him I'll have to."

"Ughh…"

_Beep_

"I know Sam, I'm sorry."

_Beep_

"Listen, I've got another call on the line; I'll call you back if I hear anything."

_Click_

"Hello?"

"Is this Samuel Winchester?"

"Umm… yes it is."

"Hello, this is the Palo Alto Regional Hospital. Is your brother a Dean Winchester?"

"Yeah, I mean… is he alright?"

"There was an accident Mister Winchester, could you come down to the hospital so we can talk further?"

"Uhh… yeah… I'll be there in a few minutes."

_Click_

_Ring_

_Ring_

"Sam?"

"Pastor Jim? Dean's in the hospital, I'm going to go see him."

"Good, I'll stay here and play damage control for your father if he comes back, call me when you find out how your brother is."

"Uh… sure… yeah, yeah I will."

_Click_

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural is not owned by me, it's owned by the CW and Kripke… those lucky devils…

**Author's Note: **Now, some off you may _not _like me for this chapter (the shortness, the lack of hurt Dean and Dean angst, etc, etc,) but I** love** this chapter, because of its simplicity and the connotations it carries.

It shows how Sam does in fact pick up for Jim (something I mentioned earlier in chapter one) and the rift that had started to form between _the brothers_ over Sam's leaving for college, again, this is a reference to the pilot where Sam asked, "Uh? The phone?" where Dean replies, "If I had called would you have picked up?"

The next chapter is longer, and it has Dean/Sam angst, oh, and injured Dean haha

**Review please! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chariot**

_Sam walks out the door, and Dean is alone with an empty heart._

**Part 5**

Sam hurried through the hallways of the hospital, counting the room numbers that were passing by. Soon, the young man found the room he was looking for and walked in anxiously.

The breath he was holding was released in a relieved sigh, and he shuddered as he folded his arms across his chest to hide his anxiety. "Dean, thank God." Sam felt the rush of relief when he saw his brother lying there, and while he did look like crap, the older brother was still very much alive.

Dean's eyes cracked open some and as he saw his brother standing there expectantly his face split into a crooked grin, "Hey Sammy, long time no see."

"You're an idiot Dean, what were you thinking coming here?" Sam didn't know whether to laugh or cry or yell at his brother… he felt like he should do all three at once.

"I wanted to see my little brother, wish him a Happy Thanksgiving."

"Thanksgiving was two weeks ago Dean," Sam scowled; Dean didn't live on "normal" people time.

"Pastor Jim and I set up Christmas decorations."

Sam sighed, and planted himself heavily in the chair next to Dean's bed. His older brother looked awful; he had an IV in one arm, and bandages covering almost every outer extremity except his face, which still had its fair share of bruises and stitches.

The doctor had said Dean had been in a motorcycle accident, and Sam didn't believe him when he said that it was Dean who was driving the motorcycle. Dean had his Impala, John had his truck, and Sam used public transportation, which was the extent of the Winchester transport.

"I hate freakin' hospitals," Dean muttered.

Sam switched his tone to that of concern, "Dean, what happened?"

Dean groaned and looked at the window in his room, "Jim had a chopper, I wanted to try it out."

"In the middle of winter Dean!? You could've died!" Sam replied quickly, "Did you even think about the fact that the roads were going to icy? You've never driven one before, your not immediately going to get the hang of that… that death machine in the cold."

The two brothers weren't looking at each other; both were too busy pretending to be furious at each other.

"Dean, I'm serious, that was stupid of you. Imagine if you were two inches closer to that car? You might have lost a leg or worst…" Sam didn't want to imagine the worst.

"I know Sammy," Dean replied quietly.

"Look, I appreciate you wanting to come down here and wanting to hang out… but Dean?"

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Dean, I'm in college, I don't have time for family visits. I need to draw the line somewhere, if I let you visit it might slip to me helping you on a hunt, and I can't do that anymore… you know that."

"Yeah… yeah."

"God, dude…" Sam leaned back, "So Pastor Jim had a motorcycle?" 

"Yeah, kind of hard to believe huh?" Dean chuckled, he was grateful the conversation had shifted, "Bro, it was gorgeous."

Sam grinned, "Until your reckless ass crashed it."

"Touché."

"You need to find a way to pay Jim back for the damage, and the hospital bill." Sam thought for a moment, and then he exclaimed, "Wait a second… how did the hospital find me? Did you actually have on a real driver's license?"

"Yeah, and no weapons either…" Dean sighed.

Sam gave his older brother an expression of disbelief.

"Okay, I had a bowie knife and a shotgun with me, but they don't count since I _always_ have those with me."

Sam laughed, and Dean smiled at the sight, crashing was worth seeing his brother again, they way they used to be, rather than how it ended, with Sam in ill spirits and Dean tired of playing mediator.

"Find a girlfriend yet Sammy?"

"No, not yet, there is this one girl though…"

"Are you going to tell me about her?" Dean smirked.

"No, I think I'll keep this one to myself," Sam said slyly, remembering his last "girlfriend" and how Dean managed to charm his way into _that_ relationship. Well, that wasn't right, the girl turned out to be a complete airhead and Sam was going to break up with her anyway – her cheating with Dean made it easier, so in the end all parties were left happy, plus Sam got Dean to feel guilty about the whole ordeal and that meant Dean was Sam's slave for a week.

"Anyway, I suppose…" Sam muttered, unsure of what to say next.

"How's college treating you Sam?"

Dean was avoiding the matter of the whole time that Sam had been avoiding his older brother, and Sam knew it, but then again, Sam didn't want to talk about it. It scared the younger brother, because he was more perceptive that Dean gave credit for and it honestly scared him… if Sam wasn't in contact with his brother for a mere couple months? Look at how reckless Dean became, look at the lengths he would go to see Sam…

"Ah, well… to be expected I suppose… lots of work. Heh, my roommate, Allen Carraway, he likes the same crappy music as you and Dad. He's such a slob so he doesn't disturb the salt lines I set down. You'd like him; he's a history major, and kind of a stubborn ass, but a nice ass."

"Did you just say he had a nice ass?"

"No!" Sam snapped, "He's a smart normal version of you!"

"Hmm, does he have my dashing good looks?" Dean joked. In truth, Dean knew exactly who Allen was, because Dean and John pulled a couple strings and found another hunter whose nephew was going to Stanford along with Sam… Allen followed the same path of his uncle, but decided to learn more in folklore and history in order to help fellow hunters.

Allen would be a professional geek boy hunter… kind of like how Sam was before he… well… before he decided to just be a professional geek boy.

Sam didn't know that, and he didn't need to, but it helped Dean to transition easier to not constantly being able to be there for Sam.

The older brother winced as Sam laid a hand on his shoulder, and watched as Sam scrutinized over what Dean had done to himself.

_After he had hit the other car Dean had slid over a slick sheet of ice on the road, spinning violently until he finally came to rest (rest was the tame version of it… stopped moving abruptly would more likely be appropriate.)_

_All he could recall was that everything hurt… everything hurt badly. His right leg was the worst, because he had hit the truck with it, the jean he wore had been torn to shreds and there was blood and cuts covering the length of it._

"You know, it was actually kind of cool," Dean said.

"What was?"

"The motorcycle, I really liked riding it."

Sam laughed, "I'm not even going to ask what possessed you to drive that death trap." He grew quieter, and then said, "Dean why didn't you call me? Why didn't you say you were coming over? And why didn't you call me when you got in the accident?"

"I didn't think you'd pick up."

The simplicity and truth to the statement pierced Sam through the heart and ran through his blood like ice. Sam knew Dean called him, almost everyday, but not once had Sam answered. What if the other driver hadn't called an ambulance for his brother? If Dean called had Sam the younger brother probably wouldn't have answered… Sam could've been the one responsible for Dean's death.

How much had he missed since leaving? How many times had his brother gotten hurt that he didn't know about?

_Besides his leg Dean busted some ribs as he veered off the icy road, gathering a menagerie of lacerations and bruises along the way. Dean remembered not being able to move when he finally stopped, he was in just so much pain, pain all over from his head (Thank God Jim told him to wear the helmet) to his toes._

_Oh God, so this is what it felt like, it wasn't the first time Dean was close to dying, he'd nearly drowned that one time in Jersey because of some demon, a rather pissed off spirit intent on dropping a bookcase on Sammy back when he was fourteen or so… _

_Oh, and the fire – Dean hated fire, but right now he was so cold._

_This must be how so many of the ghosts he'd "killed" came into being… by dying, tragically and alone. His dad didn't want to be with him, Sammy wanted to get away from him, and Mom had already been taken from him. _

_He was cold? Why was he cold? Dean in his haze attributed it to the fact that it was almost Christmas… and everyone he loved… was gone._

_The driver of the truck ran over to the young man, repeatedly saying "I'm sorry, I lost control of the car, I'm so sorry," and then calling 911 for help. When the paramedics arrived Dean was finally starting to lose his grip on reality and all he could think of was the fact that he wouldn't make it to his brother's dormitory in time, how he wouldn't make it to wish Sam a happy Christmas. And then the cold took him, and it was all he felt for a long time. _

The doctor had told Sam that Dean was lucky to have gotten off the way he did, there was soft snow, and his brother hadn't hit anything after the initial hit with the truck. He was lucky that he wore his helmet, and that he was lucky he only fractured bones rather than breaking them.

Sam knew that his brother was damn lucky… he didn't need to be reminded.

"I will next time, I promise," Sam replied, he wasn't sure how true this was, he just wanted to live his own life, away from hunting and his father and all that that entailed.

"Sure you will."

Another moment of guilt racked through Sam, Dean knew that Sam was lying too… that only made Sam feel worse. The doctor said Dean was lucky that Sam was so close to be able to be there for him when they brought the older brother in.

"Thanks Dean, I mean it, for coming out here," Sam said quietly.

"No problem Sammy, it's what I do best."

"And you're doing a hell of a job," Sam responded, looking warily at his older brother's injuries, he didn't want to be the reason Dean hurt anymore.

In Sam's mind, _he_ was the reason his brother was reckless… in Sam's logic, in order to keep Dean from killing himself, they needed to lead their own separate lives… for Dean's sake… of course… right? But in his heart Sam felt a shift… that was an excuse, to lead his own life… God, how did they end up this way?

How would Sam make things better for the long run? How could he make it so Dean wouldn't try this again? How could _he, _the little brother, protect Dean from himself? He wanted to go to college he wanted his own life, but not at the expense of Dean's health…

So that was it then, he needed to push Dean away too.

That sucked, he didn't want that, but what other way was there?

Was there?

Time to take the plunge…

"Dean I can't go through this again, you need to let me go."

…

"So… well… I'll call you, I promise…" _like I have these past couple months,_ "but you can't come back," Sam sighed and pushed himself up from the chair. "I'm going to call Pastor Jim to tell him to come pick you up; I need to go study for an exam."

"Yeah, I figured," Dean replied sorrowfully… he felt it… Sam was letting go of him, and distancing himself from his own family.

"I really _did_ miss you Dean," then with some hesitant emphasis he added, "Be careful out there."

"I missed you too Sammy, merry Christmas."

And with that, Sam walked to the door, and left Dean, once again, alone with the shattered remains of the Winchester family.

_Fin_

**Author's Note:** Well I couldn't have it end happily could I? I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it, as Nana65 said in reviews for chapter 2, this story needed to be told too I suppose, how the brother's don't always have happiness and sunshine when they are reunited, and how Sam's not always the sensitive one… and that most of time, it's actually Dean who gets hurt in the end, both physically and mentally.

Enjoy! I don't know when I will post my next story, maybe when I'm done with it in a week? Two weeks? It'll be good, I hope, stay tuned.

**Review please!**


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